


Free fall

by conventionalbullet29



Category: MCRmy, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Kinda cute and fluffy I guess, Multi, NON SPECIFIED ORIGINAL CHARACTER, Not that offensive tho
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-24
Updated: 2019-01-24
Packaged: 2019-10-15 09:20:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17526023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/conventionalbullet29/pseuds/conventionalbullet29
Summary: Mostly a thing I came up with which consists of fictionally meeting and falling for Gee Way.





	Free fall

I met Gerard Way a few weeks after he moved into the city. The night I first saw him, he was sitting at the very back of the little club my band was playing at; sipping away some can of cherry cola, his blonde short hair making him stand out from the crowd. I remember how my breath hitched on my throat and I practically stood a few solid minutes admiring the man on the shadows. He was gorgeous, but he was helplessly sad. He was utterly and deeply wounded, anyone could tell, so maybe that’s why the guy at the bar staring intently at him wasn’t trying to make his way over to him. He knew Gerard Way would only waste his time. But he wasn’t a waste of time, oh no, he was like… Time itself. He was that kind of people who would make you aware that the world stopped when you catched their eyes, making you lost absolute track of your surroundings when they were talking to you, making you feel like every minute apart from them seemed like ages. 

He was doubtlessly mesmerizing, not only his looks but his personality. I got to meet him a few nights afterwards. He was sitting on the same spot, same look on his face, but the cherry cola appeared to still be stucked on the bar this time. So I took my chances and bought him one given I still had a few more minutes to spare and go talk to him. He hadn’t seen me approach him, so he was definitely surprised when I lamely said, “Penny for your thoughts?”, to which he smiled and took the can I was offering, helping himself to a sip. He replied, deeply in thought, “I’ve just lost the love of my life, for real this time”, to which I just took the chance to smile fondly and squeeze his arm lightly before I decided to just change the subject subtly and I can pride myself in saying I made him laugh quite a few times from then on that night. He had a weird, contagious laugh that I found totally adorable. After that, he kept coming to the club mostly every night that I played, each one of those taking a seat further away from the shadows until he was at the very front row dancing and screaming along to my songs.  
Soon I learned he was trying to overcome a mostly life-long depression that included self-harming and drug-abuse addiction, and he claimed my music helped him to go forward with it. He even wrote a few songs himself for us to play. He was such a creative writer. He was slowly but surely becoming stronger every single day. He was 32 years old and I couldn’t be more proud and in love with him. He was easy to love, just by being himself, really. But I knew he wasn’t ready for any kind of romantic relationship yet. So I became his friend, his confident. He would come over to my apartment to watch movies, he would spend his afternoons working on his comics strips on a reserved spot on my “cozy and spell-binding” coffee house, we would have our Weekly Bookworm Club on Saturdays and we would go out to take long walks along Central Park. The only times we were apart were when we went to our respective apartments to spend the night.

Everything was perfect, he was perfect and I was enjoying every minute of it, but I was still surprised when he came to my apartment one night crying and claiming he was pathetic, gripping his now somewhat long black hair. Apparently, he came across his ex when he was visiting his grandmother in Jersey, now not only with a wife but with two new-born babies. It wounded him deeply to see his ex, oh, so happy and having to sport a smile on his face the whole time to pretend he had forgotten all about him on the two years Gerard last saw him. Hell, he was more surprised than I was to realize he hadn´t moved on at all. Sure, Gerard didn’t love him anymore but still longed the time he had spent with “the love of his life”. I tried to dismiss it by saying he hadn’t been with anyone for a really long time but he brushed me off, refusing himself to let this awful feeling go away. “Typical Gee”, he would say.

So that’s how I ended up on his ex’s 30th birthday party accompanying Gerard through his suffering and presenting myself as his new partner. It had been weird and I hadn’t liked being there at all, but I did it anyways, because I love him. Because I can’t see him unhappy. Plus, he had asked real nice. He had laughed all afternoon and joked with a few old friends, and he even spoke to his ex for a couple of minutes over the barbecue where he was roasting some veggie burgers. I pretended not to have noticed the look on Gerard’s face when he talked to him and how sad he seemed when we were on the 2 a.m. train back to New York. He had hugged me the entire ride and pleaded to let him stay over at mine. He ended up sleeping on the floor next to my bed in the middle of the night because he had felt alone sleeping on the couch. We spent the rest of the day cuddling in bed and drinking coffee. And that was the last time I ever saw him mulling over the ghosts of his past, as somewhere through the day I caught a look of realization pass through his eyes. He never talked about it with me, but I was sure he had poured his soul out to his therapist. 

A few weeks later one of his comic series had taken off and he was gaining the overwhelming recognition he had always deserved. He had been so full of life when he burst into my shop to share the news and I couldn’t help but hype him up even more than he already was. We celebrated over on his flat with his grandmother, his brother with his wife and a couple of his friends. That had been a pretty lovely evening and when only his brother and I were the only ones still awake, Gerard, being the dork he was, almost obliged the two of us to play Dungeons & Dragons. I couldn´t repress the loud burst of laughter that erupted from me, seeing as I probably should have seen it coming since Gerard had been in such a state of bliss throughout the day. We ended up playing the game for almost six and a half hours straight, I kid you not, transporting me back to my childhood when I would lock myself up in my room and tried to create the most mind-blowing characters to try and impress my older brother to let me play with him and his friends. Gerard looked so joyful it almost made me cry and looked so cute when he got excited over the game and kept sending me little smiles and smirks over the night. And that was easily one of the most amazing nights I have ever had so far. 

The next day when we were saying goodbye to his family on the train station, his brother had hugged me so tightly I almost choked. He, as well as I, knew how hard Gerard had had it over the years and thanked me deeply for taking care of his big brother now that he was away. He was grateful that Gerard had found a friend in me and that he now regarded me as his little sister. His grandmother welcomed me to the family too, inviting us over to her house the next time we went over to Jersey so I could teach her how to improve her pastries’ recipe. I had cried. Gerard held me afterwards, knowing what was going on in my head, while he was waving goodbye to his family.

The day when his second sobriety anniversary came around was when I couldn’t keep it in myself anymore and as we were enjoying some coffee and muffins on my coffee house as a celebration. As he was excitedly telling me this amazing thing that had happened to him that morning while going out for a jog (don’t ask me what it was, I hadn’t listened), that I told him I loved him in the spur of the moment. It just slipped out of my lips, like I had said it thousands of times before, but I knew I surely hadn’t. He seemed not to have noticed and I realized that I had just whispered. I was glad; I didn’t want to see the look on his face when he realized that his best friend saw him as more than just a friend. Damn me, he might even regard me as his somewhat sister by now. I felt awful afterwards but tried to be there for him since I knew it was a pretty special day for Gerard. We went to the bookstore and I later on got another tattoo since I hadn’t had one done in a long while, Gerard deciding to stay outside the parlor. He had overcome a great obstacle in his life, but after all he couldn’t find it in himself to overcome his fear of needles. I didn’t let him know that, of course, since I was still afraid of clowns. When I showed him the tattoo he couldn’t believe what he was witnessing. Not only did he love tattoos – not that much to get one done, though – but was absolutely ecstatic to learn that I had just gotten a little umbrella near my chest, a symbol that referenced his comic book series. It was nothing special, really, but for some reason it meant the world to him.

A few days later he asked me to accompany him to one of his comic book conventions and not just as his friend to kill time but as his partner to sit with him over at his stand and help him with the technicalities of presenting the second book of the series. It had been fun, some hardcore fans even asked me for my autograph, my fucking autograph! seeing as I was that girl from that band and now “Gerard’s lover”. Not to sound cheesy or anything, but we had acted pretty much as a couple. We had held hands for as long as we could because I knew Gerard needed reassurance, besides his anxiety kicking in once in a while, and many people pointed out him kissing my forehead on many occasions. I brushed the later off. It was a common occurrence in our friendship, it was like saying “I’m so proud of you” or “It’s gonna be okay”, or in this case “I’m so glad you’re here”, so I didn’t let it get through me. But neither him nor I tried to deny anything, we just laughed it off, guess we were just that comfortable with each other. 

My birthday came around. Everything seemed to be falling into place. My band was booking more and more shows, triggering an album recording, my coffee house was at its peak, I had just moved to a better apartment just after the holidays, with the best view of New York I could ask for and recently started writing that bakery book I had wanted to write for the longest time. Suddenly, it downed to me that I hadn’t seen Gerard in actually quite a few weeks now; he hadn’t called me either to wish me a happy birthday and, despite of me apparently not having time for him, as he had kindly reminded me in a text he sent a few nights back, I knew something was wrong. He wasn’t that much of an asshole, no matter if we were mad at each other I knew I meant more to him than a stupid argument. So I called him, and I called and I called and every time it sent me to voice mail. So I called his brother, whom picked up after a few missed calls. When he told me what had happened, I felt the world fading away. No, this couldn´t have happened. Not to him. Not now. Not ever.

I desperately made my way over to Jersey to Gerard grandmother’s house that I knew thanks to his brother that was where he was staying now. When I knocked on the door completely soaked due to the unpredictable winter snow storms, his grandmother answered the door, ushering me inside and offering me a towel not long after. She nearly cried to see me there, overwhelmed by everything that had happened in the last 36 hours and told me how happy she was to have me in her house again, but told me Gerard truly didn’t want to see me. More precisely, he didn’t want anyone to see him. I didn’t care, and told her so as I, with her permission, went over to the room he was currently sleeping on. I almost shouted in rage when I saw his butchered face, how weak he looked all squeezed tightly on the bed against the wall. Instead, I made my way down the covers and hugged him like my life depended on it, which I knew that up to one extent it did. He started sobbing and hid his face from me, but hugged me back nonetheless. I kissed his forehead, wanting to transmit him how sorry I was for all that had happened and that I was here for him now, and brushed his hair over and over again to try and comfort him, since I knew words wouldn’t work. After that he slept and I held him, staying in bed with him for as long as I could.

The day after I convinced him to come and stay over at my place, since his grandmother had to leave for a few days to attend a funeral, and didn’t even have time to show him around my new place because the moment we stepped foot into my apartment, he fell apart. I knew it didn’t have anything to do with the incident right away. His depression had crawled back into his head and despite him not wanting to be this way, Gerard was back at the dark place he once used to be. This meant I had to be extra careful with him, since he might be able to do something stupid any minute now. He finally told me what had happened over warm milk and cookies and it struck me even more to hear him tell the story with a shaky voice. You see, he lived in a shady part of town. It’s not bad, but if you are wondering off on your own at the wrong time you are more prone to something happening to you, and it happened to Gerard. On one night he couldn’t sleep, he went out for a smoke at around 4 a.m. and apparently some dudes were following him and due to him being distracted over the thing he was discussing on his head hadn’t heard them. So when he made his way back to his apartment, the two men that were after him forced their way into it to try and steal something since they recognized him as that comic book writer star from the news and took for granted that Gerard must have got plenty of valuable things in his house, but they unfortunately got carried away and decided to abuse Gerard instead while they were at it. Because that seemed to amuse people this days. Those motherfuckers. However, Gerard was able to stop the situation going any further and went straight to Jersey.

We were back to square one, but this time, for my sake, he was doing a greater effort to be okay again. I would like to say that it had been easy, but it was the hardest task I had ever had to fulfill. Sometimes he would seem fine, but would try to harm himself or drink again but thankfully I could stop him every time. And not only by being actually there with him and shaking his shoulders to make him come to his senses, but he claimed when I was away and he was at the brim of doing anything he would regret later, a disappointed image of my face popped up on his head and simply couldn’t go forward with it. He said he couldn’t bear to disappoint me, not after all I have done for him. And after a few long days and many, many failed attempts at making him smile again, did he started to actually feel better. He was eager to get to work, often sang on the shower and tried to make me laugh at some pretty lame jokes he made up. I was happy to see him smiling again and being his dorky self. But I absolutely swear I hadn’t seen beforehand what was about to happen that one night when we were snuggled up on the sofa just watching the fireplace and talking softly on an extremely cold night of the last days of January. I don’t know how we got there – actually, I know. I’m not that stupid. But let´s pretend I didn’t – to the moment where he was pulling me in towards him, more than he had ever done, and I soon realized that this was the first time he ever kissed me. 

Next morning I awoke to a sight I have seen on many occasions over the time we had been friends, but now I saw his – still slightly bruised – sleeping face with a whole new perspective. You know on that one vampire movie when the girl gets turned into one and suddenly all her senses magnify and everything is in such full detail and simply mesmerizing? It felt like I could see very clearly now. Like I was in a daze before and now I was just experiencing my surroundings with such a sharpness I never knew I was able to have. Shit, I was falling hard and fast, wasn’t I? But again, how can you not to when you practically live with this unbelievably talented and amazing human being? No one could. I’m sure. I vouch for it; I know what it is like. So instead of risking waking him up with me tracing his face for the hundredth time, I made my reluctant way over to the shower because I needed to chill the fuck out. I felt like such a sappy romantic-y school girl; it was pathetic. Suck it up, c’mon, play it cool. He was right there, stop fucking squeaking in excitement. So when I finally put my shit together and was sure I could face the sleeping beauty without wanting to suffocate him in hugs, I decided to actually do some work. I knew the coffee house could take care of itself, it was well over established by now. But the book couldn’t. I was drowning in missed deadlines; I had a bunch of recipes I needed to try out again to further enhance. I decided to go for the cinnamon rolls this time, because… well, I’d better not tell you why I chose to go for those now because it will ruin the whole “chilling out” thing and you would want to caress my face with a brick. So I put on some soft music and started working.

Somewhere in the middle of “Find the River” I felt a pair of arms sneaking around my waist, I hummed as a soft kiss was pressed to the back of my neck and turned over and oh, look! The cutest cinnamon roll ever looked so adorable with his cheeks all flushed and sleepy eyes I couldn´t help myself to attack his face. Now, this is an attitude you would never expect of someone like me. Not saying I’m a thug, nor a punk, but I have heard people feel intimidated by me because of my endless tattoos and my few piercings and my make-up, so I have a reputation for being somewhat of a difficult cookie to crack, which is kinda lame but still. You couldn´t guess from just looking at me that I was the softest rainbow pony-with-pink-bows-all-over you’ve ever met. Guess what? Not a single fuck was given as I welcomed myself to the greatest free-fall I would ever have the privilege to experience. 

The Easter holydays came galloping towards us and I sincerely did not know how long it had been since Gerard had started practically living with me. By now Gerard and I were on this weird bubble – well, weird for the outsiders – where everything and everyone was great. We were back at being the best friends we always were having our Weekly Bookworm Club, going for walks along Central Park, him jumping around on my gigs, and everything in between, but now with the added magnificence of being able to hold hands and share kisses and just being further happy with each other. During the spring we had somewhat managed to get away for a long weekend, not without some “complaints” from his grandma saying we should have gone visit her instead. We went to a cabin in the woods somewhere along in Washington and the first thing I did as we arrived and saw how actually pale Gerard was, and now that we had the setting, was to dramatize “It’s like diamonds... you’re beautiful”. Yes, ugh, we have been reading the books. To which he replied, smirking “Beautiful? This is the skin of a killer, Bella... I am a killer”, and next thing I knew he was lifting me up doing some crazy noises pretending to eat my arms and belly while spinning around. We just couldn’t help messing around and be actual dorks. Anyway, once he put me down we vowed not to quote the series ever again.

To say we had a lovely time back at the woods would be some sort of misunderstanding. Maybe it was the slightly hotter weather, or the excitement of being away from home, or the holidays or just us but we decided to spend our time there being really spicy. See, we hadn’t labeled our relationship yet, we weren’t precisely sure if we were an official couple or just two people simply enjoying the other’s company. The fact was that we weren’t sure what we were doing and where this was going, if anywhere. We were just enjoying ourselves, living in the moment. So it was an unsurprising fact to know we hadn’t fully compromised ourselves to each other by now. We hadn’t had taken any steps further into what we had, if you know what I’m talking about. Even knowing all this, I couldn’t find it in myself to be taken aback when I found Gerard’s “special underwear” among his belongings. Nor could he when he came across mine. The intentions were as clear as they’ll ever be; they had been for a while. So, that’s how we mostly spend our time, besides the regular breaks for food and sleep because showering didn’t really counted. Apart from that we went sort of swimming on the nearby lake at night, which had been like, a dream come true. I had always wanted to swim under the stars.

We had started this new year with each other and we pretended to end it with one another. At least, that was my plan. Guess the universe just didn’t want that. May came and presented itself as a true bitch for both of us. I was releasing my book and Gerard was working on a new series, this time deciding to create a whole new universe along various artists so he had a pretty hot calling-line, taking to all the people and discussing ideas. He had even gained weight with how little he left his studio and how fucked up his meals were. Not that I minded my men with a few more pounds, I actually found it quite adorable, but I noticed it wasn’t a necessarily healthy lifestyle, neither physically nor mentally. We got into a lot of arguments for this. He said that I couldn’t understand how demanding his job was, and how committed he needed to be and some more remarks I’d rather not have burned into my mind. It had been awful the last few days but by the end of the month we were ourselves again. Well, as “ourselves” as we could be. He was still pretty busy and I was still promoting my book, but we worked out how to cope with the pressure of the demands of job divided by romantic relationship. We had been used to be by ourselves for so long, not to have someone who you actually needed to be with and care for, that we found it hard to adapt another person to our actual lives. If I said we had a relationship just like our friendship before, I would be lying because you never had to work so hard to be with someone when you are friends. With your friends, if you couldn’t hang out, you just simply couldn’t but with a partner, you had much more important commitments to accomplish. We slowly but surely made it work in the end, but I’d be lying if I said it hadn’t cost me a few tears and some sleepless nights.

Besides from that tense month everything was cool. We were visiting his grandma pretty often due to her being kind of sick lately; we would bring groceries and cook all together, well, Gerard and I, his grandma would just sit beside us due to not having the strength to help. The situation was constantly flaring red flags on my mind but Gerard just brushed it off, claiming she got sick a lot during this time of year. His grandma seemed to agree with that, saying it was just fever and high blood pressure. So I believed them. The one time I let my guard down and dismissed my instincts. So it was with a heavy heart I told Gerard that one morning after he arrived from a three-week long business trip, that the plans of visiting his grandma that afternoon couldn’t be taken into action. He was in denial at first. I guess we all were, but not like him. He was torn to pieces. His grandma had been his hero his whole life and now it was gone before he could even say goodbye. He was so sad up to the point of being mad at me because I was the last person his grandma ever spoken to face to face because I had visited her the night prior to her passing away. He didn’t blame or despised me, he was just mad he hadn’t seen it coming and went to the stupid trip anyways instead of being there for his grandma. I told him that I hadn’t seen it coming either, she looked just fine the night I last saw her. She had been so happy to have Gerard over to tell her all the amazing things he did in L.A. Turned out, it hadn’t been so amazing after all.

Now, his brother and I were expecting some random outbursts during the weeks that followed and were even prepared to call code red if needed. But the truth was, Gerard just stayed with me in my apartment, the worst thing being he couldn’t be by himself anymore. Apart from that he was a fully functional being. He was holding up so greatly his brother even went back to his home before schedule after everything regarding their grandma was sorted out and dealt with. The amount of time he was staying over was overwhelmingly welcome and soon we even turned his apartment into a full on studio with a painting room and everything. It was now his office, the whole place. It would be my office too from time to time when I needed some time to just relax and create music, now that my band was fully signed with a record label to go forward with the album. Gerard often helped with the concept writing. He was an amazing writer. So that was how he officially moved to my place; he would bring basic-need items more often, we bought a drawer – a true Ikea Odyssey – to put his clothes on for when he had to change, he installed bookshelves along my living room to place his comic books instead of having them scattered on the floor, we would split the bills, he would make paintings and hang them on the walls, he would be there to sample my new recipes and give constructive feedback and bit my bit we were actually sharing apartment and everything was so domestic-y exciting. Men, were we in such a good place that one day when we came across his now long-forgotten ex and family, Gerard did no more than to be an absolute sweetheart to the babies and actually held a conversation with the couple. I was so proud to see how far he had come.

My album’s release date came on August 18th, the craziest day ever. Gerard had been beyond excited, after all, he had collaborated on it not only with lyrics but the artwork. He was so joyful and bragged me to every passer-by he had the opportunity to talk to. “Did you know this amazing person that I have the privilege to call my other half recently released the best album of the year today?”, he would say. Some people would grace him with a few minutes to discuss the album and to my surprise; many of them actually listened to the record that night. It had been a big hit for us and we had some of our songs played on the radio, too. I was beyond myself by then, like living in a daydream. Gerard had wanted to go out to celebrate but I turned down the offer, I just wanted to go get tattooed. So I did. I got tattooed one of my favorite of Gerard’s drawings that evening. A mix of a skull and flowers and horns and stars and weird shit full of colors he had done a few weeks back, and I loved it. To my utter and total surprise, he had been by my side the whole time and to top it off, the tattoo artist even let him scribbled his signature under the design after my encouragement (and pleading). How cool was that? A signed Gerard Way original on my skin. Holy hell.

So, what now? We were great, splendid actually. It was like we were in our own world again, with our inside jokes and late-night pillow talks, coffee and paint, warmth and safety. And nothing was to come in between us, not even me going away for a few days at a time to play gigs now that my band has gotten big enough for us to do a little tour. When we had to go further away from town Gerard decided to hop in on our rented motorhome (because a tour bus was way too expensive and a van way too small) and take a two-week break from work. Man, I was not old, just over my thirties, but those two weeks felt like a teenage dream with Gerard on board. Somehow, we couldn’t keep our hands off each other; he would get pretty wind up seeing me onstage and I would just play along since I had to come down from the adrenaline rush I would get every single night. To say my band mates were annoyed with us was an understatement. But we couldn’t help it, we felt like two love-struck teenagers again and it had been magnificent. Apart from that, when I was not on rehearsal, we would make it our mission to wander about the town we were currently at and try to find vintage stores. Be it a coffee house, a pawn shop, a bookstore, an antique parlor, a record store, anything rad enough to find something unique in there and take it home. Gerard was hilarious the whole time, playing around and even making a mess on his way. We had never been that carefree and wild.

Time to come home arrived and it startled us to find ourselves falling once more on our daily routines. My life was quieter now, somehow. My book’s hype had slowed down, my album release and tour had ended, the coffee house was doing well; Gerard, on the other hand, had lots of projects to start working on. So I took a break from the busy life. I stayed home, read and cooked a lot, I made sure my man got the exercise and breaks from work he needed to maintain a sort of healthy lifestyle, I would go to the record store by the end of the street and discover new music, I loved spending time by the apartment-office painting whatever my hand decided to. Autumn had never been this good before. One afternoon, while Gerard was hunched over his desk and I was jamming on my guitar on our studio an idea popped up into my mind, something I had always wanted to do with someone special. I think I had finally found my someone special. So I silently planned everything and waited until I knew he wasn’t in such tight deadlines to actually tell him what we were going to do next. I was actually delighted to know that he had chosen to take the majority of November off. Great timing, Destiny. So as soon as he had his shower after his last, long day of work I blurted out we were going to Norway. He had stared at me in confusion before giving in and smiling. He began kissing me but I hadn’t had the patience to enjoy it. I instantly began pulling my already packed suitcase and laying out on the bed some clothes I had bought for the trip that Gerard had to try out. I threw him a basic Norwegian language book to start reading it as he came into our room with an amused look in his face. He suddenly realized this wasn’t a spur-of-the-moment decision and learned the only thing that was left to do was pack his case. Yes, Gee, I already booked the tickets. What? Of course I found a hotel, Jesus. I even got us passes to a winter cultural festival. Don’t worry, babe. Everything’s under control. He stared at me for a few long seconds, wondering how this happened, I suppose, until he finally said, “You’re a crazy one, you know that? I never get bored with you”.


End file.
